


Vermillion

by Galahard



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: I have no idea what to tag this what is this fic even about, I wrote it while at a convention so it has a convention in it, I'm so sorry these tags are shit, M/M, This is like as close as I'll get to slow build, a smattering of pining too, and dating, and people being ridiculous, really feelings shy, relationship shy Harry, someone really needs to help me tag shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 02:42:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3553091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galahard/pseuds/Galahard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill for Shy!Harry. There's everything from missions to dating in this, and this fic pretty much just got away from me.</p><p>He didn't know what to do with that. He didn't blush. He wasn't some teenager to be so affected by anything Eggsy did. Though really, he couldn't remember the last time he'd looked at someone and not pictured them in his bed but rather his dining room, chowing down on too sugary cereal while loudly revealing his plans for the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vermillion

**Author's Note:**

> I've tried to keep him in character as much as I could and reserved the shy aspect for him being relationship shy, but I will say I think Harry is different than how I usually write him. So just keep the prompt in mind?

Conferences definitely ranked among the top of his least favorite places to do reconnaissance missions. There were too many people, headed in all different directions, all comfortable with some topic he'd read a file on while traveling to the place.

It meant he was off his game, he lacked authoritative knowledge and had to rely on whoever was in his ear to keep him from looking like a fool.

Harry took to conferences like a fish to water.

It was a marvel to watch him at work, showing a gentleman's knowledge of all subjects, turning horrendously complex questions that Eggsy could barely understand into deep discussions that brushed against several subject areas, drawing in more people and keeping them all engaged. He was a spider working his web, and his victims didn't even know they were trapped.

He tried to get himself passed off as Harry's student or guard, but Harry had insisted they be colleagues, had seemed appalled at any suggestion otherwise.

It meant he was working overtime to keep up, trying to pass on clever lines when he could, drinking in Harry's approval to sustain him during the long struggles between those interjections. It made tracking targets harder, forced him to trust Merlin or whoever was viewing his feed to pick up on nuances he was too distracted to notice, and he mentally heaved a sigh of relief when Harry excused them both, saying they had to make it to a session.

What was hard about this mission was that they were keeping their eye out for a recluse. Sure, conventions like these were useful in keeping an ear open for crackpot theories that might be acted upon in negative ways, to make sure someone wasn’t trying some experiment in the name of science or the greater good that was putting people at risk. Via discussion boards and stray posts dotting the types of message boards these people frequented they’d managed to identify a potential threat.

It had almost been too easy to identify the individual as a threat. Not many would have chosen to go by the name _TheMistress_ , and while the writing and comments showed certain nuances of genius they also tended to end by some of the individuals going into a side chat for further discussion. Individuals that came back some time later spouting ideas in line with _TheMistress’_ thinking but on a more radical fringe than was initially proposed.

Hours of research had Merlin frustrated and bristling, almost as if he was a cat who’s fur had been rubbed the wrong way. Now they were here to find _TheMistress_ , with little more to go on than Merlin thought it was in fact a female, at least in her 40s but very probably older, and from her collection of user icons over the past several months it was likely that she’d be wearing flashy colors of lipstick, and they had several images of supposedly her lips burned into their retinas. 

It was inevitable that they would have to split up as the conference went on, the second day dawning far too soon, but at least he was starting to catch on to the lingo, the common threads running through the conversations. They were starting to pick up on some of the propaganda their mark tended to push, classist ideas that promoted a new class. An even lower class. Formed of criminals and others she deemed unworthy of being among the rest. A concept that wasn’t quite slavery but in many ways was even worse. 

Of course, that wasn’t how it was sold, but Eggsy had heard enough bullshit in his life to pick it out from the rest of the words.

He was the first to find her, zooming in with a quick tap of his glasses so Merlin could get a clear shot of her lips, of the glistening gold lipstick smeared across them. He actually knew the man she was talking to, migrating over as he took her in with quick glances. Definitely older, though she was clearly deft in the application of her makeup. Wealth clung to her as if it was seeking her out, delicate fabrics hugging her figure, and he could tell they were tailored to her, had learned enough from their front as Kingsman to see that plainly now. Her jewels were opulent but not overbearing, her poise powerful yet in a subtle way. A master of her craft.

“Mr. Jenkins,” he inserted himself into the conversation when there was a natural lull, reaching out to shake his hand. “I was hoping to run into you again.” He turned to face the woman, raising his eyebrows slightly. “I beg your pardon ma’am, I don’t believe we’ve met. Mr. Jenkins, would you do me the honor of introducing us?”

The man cleared his throat, eyes darting between them a bit uncertainly. “Oh yes, right. Um. Ms. er. Lady? Lady Blackwell this is Mr. Taron Egerton. Mr. Egerton this is Lady Miranda Blackwell.”

She held out her hand and he accepted it gently, lifting it slowly to press a soft kiss to the back of her hand. “The pleasure is all mine,” he assured her, releasing her hand slowly, and he could see the way she was accessing him, let her see that he was straightening up a bit, preening. She’d be eating out of his hand before the day was up.

“Mr. Egerton, it is such a delight to see some youthful faces around her. I have to head to a meeting but would you mind escorting me?”

He turned, offering her an arm. “It would be an honor.” Maybe it wouldn’t take the whole day afterall.

\--------

“Galahad has made first contact.” Merlin’s words buzzed through his ear and Harry did nothing to acknowledge him, knowing it wasn’t important enough to risk breaking his cover or even fracturing it. 

“She seems impressed, having him escort her but he’s already taken her past the place where she’s supposed to go. I think he did it on purpose, but she’s definitely letting him do it. I’d leave them be for a bit Arthur, I have a feeling that this is just what we need to crack this wide open and find out what her endgame is.”

Merlin stopped reporting for a minute, probably busy watching a feed, so Harry switched off his camera and visited the loo, turning them on again with a touch when he was done trying his hands. He’d almost made it back to the main room when Merlin buzzed in again. “They’ve made plans to meet at the dinner tonight. He’s good Arthur. Your boy is good.”

There was a faint sense of pride at that, and Harry knew that Merlin was right. Of course Eggsy had managed to already win over the woman. He started heading toward where he thought they’d disappeared, Merlin muttering directions to him under his breath.

\---------

The room was buzzing with polite conversation, and it was a comforting feeling. He was speaking with a conservation specialist he'd met the day before, Eggsy in his peripheral vision.

He hadn't seen her in person before, but Eggsy had filled him in on what he'd managed to find out about Lady Miranda. Already his companion was familiar enough with her to call her by her first name, and he was doing that thing where he was trying to appear casual but he was obviously apprehensive about something. A hint of stiffness in his shoulders that not even Roxy would probably notice.

Then Eggsy straightened and Harry risked a glance back, look past him and his eyes settling on the woman moving toward them.

She had the sort of look on her face that he'd sometimes seen Mr. Pickle get when he noticed Harry getting out the canned dog food, eyes riveted on Eggsy. He couldn't keep watch without being rude so he refocused on the man in front of him, subtly winding the conversation to a close.

By the time he had shook himself loose of the man he had to scan the room, finding Eggsy and the woman near the window. He started moving toward them and without casting a glance at him Eggsy put two fingers to the band of his watch.

Extraction, nothing more of value to be gained. That was the first finger. The second a request for assistance, and he could see why by the way the woman had angled her body toward his, the way she looked ready to devour him.

Outwardly he showed no sign of noticing, his pace steady as he crossed the room. Instead of walking right up to them he angled his path so that he came up behind Eggsy, slipping a hand around to settle on his hip and leaning down speak quietly in his ear.

He didn't whisper, carefully making sure that His voice would be loud enough to be overheard but not loud enough to make it obvious. "They're opening the doors soon, but I'll save your seat darling. Are you okay with sitting next to the ambassador?"

Eggsy showed remarkable control, not tensing up noticeably and managing to relax back against him. "That should be fine," he started, then turned his head as the doors opened on the other side of the room. "Ah, they're opening now. I'll join you."

He turned back to Lady Blackwell, dipping his head to her and practicing being obliviousness at the way her gaze had hardened, flickering frequently to the hand at his waist. “I apologize Lady Miranda, I wasn’t aware that Colin had made arrangements with the ambassador. Raincheck?”

Since he had established that he had a prior claim there was no easy way for her to insist that Eggsy remain with her without raising a fuss, and when she looked at him he couldn’t help but smirk slightly, watching her gaze harden as he took a step to the side, letting his hand slide slowly over the small of Eggsy’s back and then trail down his arm, lacing their fingers together and keeping his protégé close as he escorted him to the dining room.

\----------

They had just made it back to their room, and now Eggsy was grateful that they were sharing as there would be less suspicion if Lady Miranda chose to look into them. Walking in they did their usual and immediate checks. None of their traps had been set off, the room undisturbed. It meant their beds weren’t made by the staff, and they had to request when they needed fresh towels sent up, but it was worth the small sacrifice.

Knowing it was safe to talk he immediately launched into the rundown of what he had learned. That was always of primary importance. Give out what information could be shared just in case something was to happen. 

“Well, she has charisma in fucking spades, I’ll give her that much.” His somewhat posh accent was stripped away as easily as his coat. He worked on hanging it up on the hanger Harry handed to him and making certain that everything was hanging straight before passing it back, Harry putting it in the closet next to his own. “So within a few minutes she was sounding me out for my views on class, but she’s fucking subtle.” He shook his head, sitting on the edge of the bed and unlacing his oxfords. “The thing is it’s all talk and sex and shit, so I don’t think her followers will stand by her if it becomes an actual public issue. Outing her early, before she has a solid following, should be enough to put an end to this shit. It’s too radical, and Merlin thinks our tech crew can help us take out any major forms of support she might get from fucking hate groups and the like before they’re an issue.” 

Shoes were paired, squared away at the end of the bed, and he started working on his tie before he looked up at Harry. “Let’s see if we can speak to some of her followers, plant a few seeds of doubt. If there’s any way to discredit her intellectually people will be more willing to side against her when the time to out her comes.”

“I was thinking the same fucking thing,” he replied with a grin. It was always nice to have his instincts confirmed by Harry, to know that experience backed up his decisions.

Harry walked over, and Eggsy looked up, a bit confused as Harry studied him, oddly formal considering they were back in the room. “Eggsy, I am afraid I must apologize. I was very forward before dinner and I don’t want you to think that I purposefully overstepped. It seemed obvious to me at the time to go for a strong impression considering who you were trying to get away from.”

Eggsy’s bit of confusion only deepened. “You ain’t overstepped nothing.” He didn’t even try to disguise the weird look he gave Harry. “I asked for an extraction.”

“Well yes,” Harry’s eyebrows knitted together and he straightened his sleeves needlessly, looking away. “But we hadn’t discussed your alias being gay, much less in a relationship, and I shouldn’t have imposed that strongly without some sort of consent.”

Harry actually seemed worried, like he truly believed Eggsy might care, and the younger man did. But probably not in the way he thought. No, he had been invested in the hand at his waist for other reasons, reasons that he certainly couldn’t admit to Harry now. “Being gay ain’t no issue. Probably makes more sense to people really, seeing as Taron don’t fit in so snug as everyone else. Now they’ll just think you drug me here because we’re together and I have a passing interest, yeah? Shit, it’ll be easier now, really.”

His mentor looked relieved, smiling gently and honestly. “I’m glad to hear it Eggsy.”

\---------

The rest of the convention was a blur of activity. There were rumors to casually spread, tiny hints to drop about the Lady's views and how radical he thought they were. He spoke as if he was appalled but trying to hide it, trying to remain a gentleman and not talking about how deeply it ran, and all it did was whet the curiosities of those who heard him. They wanted the truth about her, and Eggsy didn't give it.

It was fun moving off and watching the whispering and looks begin. By the time they left she'd be mostly discredited, the exposé would do the rest.

It was still nice to get in the carat the close of the conference, Harry giving him a single look when he offered to drive. It was comfortable enough in the car, and by now he knew better than to stick his feet in the dash. Seat reclined halfway back he let his eyes close. "We're pretty fucking awesome together."

There was a moment of silence and he found himself opening one eye, looking over at Harry. For some reason his knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. "That mission was very successful," Harry finally contributed.

"Merlin said you was shit at working with someone. Now we're the go to when they need a pair." He looked over to Harry, grinning. "Guess I'm just that awesome."

Rather than snarking back, sighing in exasperation, or making some quip of his own Harry remained uncharacteristically silent, until finally with a frown Eggsy turned to look out the window.

\---------

It had been several minutes since Eggsy's breathing had evened out he'd fallen asleep before Harry looked over, eyes scanning the young man's form. Memorizing.

Yesterday he had went too far, today with Eggsy's casual brushes and light flirtations to keep up with appearances had only added to that.

Of course Eggsy had forgiven him, had said everything was fine. Nothing he had done was truly out of line. Unless one knew his true feelings. Of the actual possessiveness he'd felt with his hand on Eggsy's waist, of the way he craved that intimacy as soon as it ended. 

Eggsy thought he was just acting. Eggsy looked up to him. He was his mentor, not old enough to be his father. Older than his father. He couldn't drag him into this, whatever this was. He didn't want Eggsy to feel any pressure that he somehow owed him. He just needed to establish some distance and everything would be fine. Things would settle down soon enough. 

The yearning he felt would go away if he just gave it time.

\----------

Harry had made himself scarce lately, and it was fucking annoying. It might not have been a big deal but he was sometimes gone when Eggsy actually needed him. He was always just a couple of minutes behind the older man, random Kingsman personnel starting to give him pitying looks as they explained Harry had just left a moment before.

There wasn’t time to waste on this shit. Merlin had made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t going to be cleared for an international mission without Harry’s signature and explicit consent, and he needed to go. He needed permission to go before the mission went to someone else. And how many times did missions happen to crop up in the south of France, during the summer, and would require him to stay along the beach? Not often enough, he was sure of that.

Finally he gave up, stalking back to Harry’s office here, habit causing him to brush over the nameplate spelling out Arthur, the bronze shining from where others had done the same thing in the past, though none of the agents really admitted to it.

He sat for a minute but it was too still, too quiet, and before long he jumped up, pacing before noticing a landscape hanging on the wall that looked oddly familiar. He made his way to it, looking at it and trying to place it for a minute. He’d just figured it out, it had to have been where they were now, before the structure had gone up, a painting to preserve the view of the land.

Eggsy turned, about to go back to his seat or to continue pacing when the door opened slowly. There was a moment, almost a hesitation, and then Harry walked in.

He had just cleared the door when he halted abruptly, turning quickly to face him, face looking first determined, then the light of recognition dawning, then he looked almost a touch worried. “Eggsy.”

“Finally managed to find you. You was fucking hard to track down. Look, Merlin ain’t going to let me go France without you signing my permission slip,” he rolled his eyes, knowing how ridiculous this all seemed. Still, he was holding out a form for Harry to sign, and Harry took it wordlessly, looking down at it and scribbling his name.

Eggsy thought he’d hand it back over without saying anything else, but Harry paused, putting his pen back into his jacket. “Who else is going with you?”

The words seemed almost as if they had burst out, as if he couldn’t contain them any longer.

Eggsy reached for the form before shrugging. “Just me. It’s just an assassination attempt, I can probably handle this shit on my own, yeah? Mob related, nothing we ain’t done before.”

“By yourself?” Harry sounded worried, and Eggsy gave him a weird look.

“Yeah bruv.”

“You should really take backup.” The worry was even more apparent now.

“Fuck that, I don’t get along with most of the agents, not enough to go to the beach with them.” The realization hit and he smiled at Harry. “I got it. I’ll go check with Merlin to see if he can clear your schedule!”

He was gone before Harry even had time to formulate a reply.

\--------

It was apparent now that he had lost control of his life. Normally at this time he'd be sitting down at the table, working through his bills while keeping an eye on the news. Now he was in a cab, listening to Eggsy practice his French on the driver, not minding in the least when he messed up, and the driver seemed delighted with his attempts, laughing with him but not at him. Remarkable.

His attention was fully snatched by the conversation when the driver suddenly asked if they were a couple.

There was a pause, but for Eggsy that could mean anything. Horror, revulsion, shock.

"Pas encore."

Or apparently trying to find the right words in French. Then the meaning washed over him. Not yet. He looked up sharply and he could see the driver watching him in the mirror, grinning. He glanced away, trying to ignore the well wishes and teasing between the others in the car.

\---------

Harry was acting weird. Normally they'd go out of town and he'd inevitably have a quaint little cafe to go to, some local spot he'd stumbled across or had recommended to him. He had always seemed to delight in introducing Eggsy to new places and new things, but he was oddly quiet this trip. He wouldn't turn down a direct invitation, but he wasn't offering anything either.

They'd been here for a couple of days, scouting the area, making sure they could cover all the angles that were a threat. The mark was coming in tomorrow, and Eggsy was tired of lackluster dinners with stretched conversation.

So he practiced his French. He found a nice enough middle aged woman selling flowers and charmed her a bit, buying a bouquet for the prettiest woman in town, then handing it back to her and watching her blush.

She was won over before he asked his question, managing to make it through the French. "I know this sounds weird, but can you tell me the worst restaurant around here? Like maybe the place you send obscenely rude Americans to?"

From the way her eyes lit up he knew she'd done it before, and after she gave him the name and directions to the place he brushed a kiss to the back of her hand, forcing himself to saunter back to the hotel rather than run.

He had also figured out that Harry never told him no when they were face to face, so once he got back it was straight to Harry's room, knocking on the outer door rather than the one connecting their room.

"Evening bruv, you want to grab something to eat? I'm fucking starving and I just heard about a place a couple of kilometers from here."

Harry barely hesitated before he nodded. "I'll need a moment to fetch my coat."

Eggsy nodded, waiting patiently enough and trying to figure out if he'd really seen a room service tray over on the table by the window.

\---------

Eggsy was headed straight for an obnoxiously kitschy restaurant, and Harry had heard of this place. Specifically, he'd heard to never go there. He slowed to a stop, staring at it with a bit of reservation, and Eggsy turned, eyebrows drawn together, lips parted as they always were.

"What was you stopping for?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't think this is a very good place."

Eggsy turned to glance at it. "It ain't? But what are we going to do?"

"Well, there is a little Greek restaurant a block or two past here that has a wonderful moussaka."

He was taken aback by the triumphant grin on Eggsy's face. "I knew it. I fucking knew it. Of course you know somewhere to eat around here. Shit, you're a walking travel guide." There was a touch of awe to his voice, and Harry couldn't help but enjoy the attention, feeling his cheeks flush slightly.

He didn't know what to do with that. He didn't blush. He wasn't some teenager to be so affected by anything Eggsy did. Though really, he couldn't remember the last time he'd looked at someone and not pictured them in his bed but rather his dining room, chowing down on too sugary cereal while loudly revealing his plans for the day. It was confusing how much he wanted that. Almost as maddening as the way he'd suddenly pictured Eggsy while he last time he was masturbating. Not doing anything sexual, just the idea of Eggsy doing something as mundane as folding laundry with him.

He trailed after Eggsy, trying to ignore the feeling that this was all spiraling out of his control. Trying not to laugh hysterically at his previous idea that maybe he could just put some distance between them and his foolish infatuation would go away.

If only this was as simple as wanting to fuck him. That was a proposition he could make, and he'd be able to move on. This? Whatever this was? He didn't even know how to start.

\---------

Dinner was amazing. Somehow about the atmosphere seemed to put Harry at ease, or maybe it was just how clueless he was when it came to the menu. Or the ouzo. One of those.

"What is this shit again?" He asked, dragging his bread through the thick dip, eyeing it a bit suspiciously.

"Taramasalata," Harry replied simply, the word rolling off his tongue. "Just try it." The older agent leaned forward a bit, hands laced in front of him. Slightly self conscious Eggsy took a bite, then tried to stifle a moan. He wasn't entirely successful if the blues in Harry's cheeks was any indication.

"You dickhead, I can't believe you didn't offer to to bring me here." Harry ducked his head, honestly looking a touch sheepish, and Eggsy reached out, covering his hand with his own. It was instinctual, and he wasn't sure why he did it, he had just been thinking about comfort and reassurance at the time, but when he glanced up Harry was staring at him, cheeks noticeably darker even in the dim light.

Oh.

He didn't pull back immediately, simply squeezed gently and then he sat back in his chair, removing his hand in the process. "You ain't supposed to hold out on me," he said, a touch of a pout to his voice.

Harry cleared his throat. "I'd almost forgotten about it," he said, and both of them let the lie slide.

\----------

What was remarkable was that Eggsy had still not called Merlin to tell him to send a jet and extract him early. Harry refused to give in to that awful thing called hope, staying tense for the rest of the dinner, though the food and company were both excellent.

But every once in a while he could feel the younger man scrutinizing him, knew that Eggsy had noticed something, and if he had a few additional shots of ouzo than might ordinarily be prescribed he felt that it was well justified.

It was agonizing to walk home next to Eggsy, but at the same time he hung on to every word, Eggsy talking about the first disastrous time he'd tried gyros. It was hard not to stare, Eggsy gesturing wildly, miming out his actions, smiling and laughing at his own story.

The only time he managed to truly look away was to stare a couple that seemed rather scandalized by Eggsy's colorful diction, a surge of satisfaction flooding through him when they looked away.

In another life perhaps he would have felt brave enough to put his hand on the small of Eggsy's back, but even the thought had his neck growing hot. How he had ever managed to do such casual things were beyond him.

They were at their hotel and yet not soon enough, Eggsy's voice just as loud in the lobby as it had been outside while he wound his story down, but Harry didn't find himself annoyed, instead he was almost horrified at how fond he felt.

From the elevators to their rooms was rather quiet, and with a murmured "good night" he reached into his pocket for his key card to tap on the lock.

He could sense when Eggsy turned toward him, but he wasn't expecting the quick press against his side, the fleeting impression of lips on his cheek.

"Night Harry."

Just as quickly Eggsy's door was shutting behind him, leaving Harry frozen outside his still locked door.

\----------

“Can you scan the alley by the patisserie? I’ve got the street.”

Eggsy’s voice was sure and confident in his ear, and Harry shifted his rifle, peering through the sight.

He wasn’t sure what he had expected to happen. Half the night had been spent agonizing over what he should do, if he should do anything, or if perhaps he’d missed Eggsy tucking away another bottle of ouzo. But then the morning had dawned and Eggsy had been ready for the mission, focused and intent in that way of his when he had something to prove. He was still willing to crack a smile or a joke, but it was such familiar ground that Harry found himself relaxed, able to ignore the churning pit of his stomach that occurred when he tried to figure out what he was doing. If he was imagining everything.

“Clear.” He raised the sight slightly and to the right. “I think I spotted movement in the window of the second story of the patisserie, but it’s the one facing your side. Can you confirm?”

There was a moment of delay before Eggsy responded. “Consistent with air conditioning, but I’ll keep an eye on it. Have you swept the area in front of the florist?”

Honestly it was hard to tell what exactly they were looking for. If it was a mob hit it might just be a car driving by, machine guns mowing down whoever was in their path. Or it could be a trained professional, and that alone did not guarantee a sniper. There wasn’t even a sure consensus on how many assassins they might be dealing with. He didn’t want to say that they were going in with too little information, that Eggsy might have tried to time this a better, and he had to go with the fact that someone’s life was at risk, and they knew the date. It had to be enough.

“Harry the car coming in from west, dark blue.” He looked up, caught sight of the vehicle and quickly shifted his gun to follow it.

“Weapons confirmed. Do you have eyes on the target?”

“Heading into the church.”

“It’s not likely they’ll kill in the church,” Harry pointed out, only to hear Eggsy hum his agreement.

“Yeah, but this gives us a chance to figure out where they’ll be out and to take them out without giving away our positions. Do you have a visual?”

“They’re headed into the apartments.”

He knew Eggsy was on the move, was watching when Eggsy slipped out of the building and crossed the street, doubling back to the apartments. “I see movement in the windows of unit 4B,” Harry sent, and for a moment he could just hear Eggsy breathing on the other end of the line, faint noises that helped to confirm that he was alive.

Gun trained on the window he started looking around, keeping an eye on the street as he heard the rap on the door over the feed, could hear the grunts and muffled thumps if he listened hard enough.

“Do you see anyone else?” Eggsy didn’t sound out of breath in the least, and Harry could applaud that.

“That seems to be it. Report back.”

Eggsy was exiting the building with a second car squealed around the corner, racing down the street to come to a screeching halt in front of the church. Eggsy was trying to appear casual when someone stepped out of the car, revolver trained on him. Without hesitation Harry aimed and fired, watching the body slide over and slump even as a second shot rang out. There was someone else in the car. Eggsy was hurtling himself to the side, jumping over a fence into a flower bed and tucking into a somersault. Harry laid down covering fire, busting the windows out before Eggsy rose to his knees and fired again.

“Get out of there now, meet me at the rendezvous point.” Eggsy was in motion immediately, and Harry had the gun broken down and in it’s case within seconds, hurrying down the flights of stairs and making it out of the building before even the faintest strains of sirens reached him.

\---------

He made it to the rendezvous point before Harry, and it was an ansty moment, waiting for the other agent to join him. Then Harry was striding up, briefcase in one hand, the smooth, expensive leather not looking in the least like it was holding a deadly weapon. They were in their matching pinstripes, and he knew they made quite a pair strolling down the sidewalk, falling into an easy conversation about the weather that was laden with code.

The protocol was that they were just two men out enjoying the town, and they’d circle around a bit and then back to the hotel before changing and going out on the beach to catch a few rays. Then he saw the woman who’d given him the information, saw the way she caught his eyes, saw the recognition dawn, and then saw her examining Harry, calculating.

“Garçon!” She called out to him and he caught Harry’s arm, giving him the signal to follow his lead as he started to step toward her.

As he went he let his hand drift down until their fingers were laced together, a quick glance showing that Harry was pointedly looking away but he seemed flushed again as they approached the woman.

There was a quick exchange of French, her asking him if this was who he’d taken to the restaurant, him brushing over the story. She laughed when she realized it was a ploy, clapping her hands, and then she handed over a small bouquet, insisting that they take the flowers, still chortling in mirth as they moved off.

He could tell that Harry was pulling away, not physically, their hands were still linked, but he was quiet, not acknowledging what had just happened. It wasn’t enough.

“You could have told her the truth, yeah?” Eggsy said carefully, waiting to see if Harry would focus back in enough to engage in a conversation.

For a moment he wasn’t sure if he would, but then Harry was glancing over, curiosity getting the better of him. “The truth?”

“That it didn’t work.” Eggsy answered with a tilt of his head. “Sure it made her fucking happy to think that it had, but you could have just told her you wasn’t won over or nothing.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Guess that’s why I’m stuck on you. You ain’t cruel. I’m done with that shit.”

He felt more than saw the stutter in Harry’s step, the guarded look in his eyes when he glanced up at the older man. “I ain’t going to stop trying to win you over. That’d be fucking stupid. But you ain’t got to feel obliged.” Gently he squeezed Harry’s hand, and while Harry was silent, not even acknowledging Eggsy’s words, he didn’t pull his hand away.

\----------

The jet ride back was once again a quiet affair. The paper in front of him was pointless, something to hold and focus on rather than Eggsy sitting beside him. And he was. Eggsy had chosen to sit right up next to him, leaning on the armrest between them, rather than anywhere else on the plane. He was tapping away at his phone, apparently some sort of word game that he was playing against Roxy, alternating between sounds of disgust and elation.

Each one of sounds cut straight through him, and he found himself reading the same line for the sixth time.

“Eggsy,” he started, then stopped. He wasn’t even sure where has going to go with this, and he had no idea of what to follow the young man’s name with.

Eggsy was looking up at him quizzically, fingers hovering over the screen. After a moment something in his gaze seemed to soften and then he was holding his phone out to Harry. “Do you see a word I can make? All I can figure out is game but it seems like a waste. I mean, it’ll make it harder for her to build off and hit the triple word score unless she has an s but I’m not going to get many points.”

“Using the E to turn her into here?” Harry questioned, watching Eggsy nod. “You have the letters for mutagen. I believe that will put your N on the red tile.” He turned back to his paper, smiling as Eggsy’s mouth dropped open and he scrambled to put his letters on the board.

Moments later his phone blew up up with texts, and then Harry got one himself, Roxy telling him in explicit terms what she could do with his small intestine and liver if he helped Eggsy again.

\---------

It was moments like the plane that sustained him. There were hints here and there that Harry didn’t despise his forwardness, that perhaps he actually enjoyed and appreciated the attention. That he wasn’t just blushing because he was appalled but rather because he was interested in the idea.

He wasn’t sure sure why Harry was so fucking reserved about this. He knew Harry had casually fucked people for missions before, knew that it wasn’t some blushing virgin he was dealing with. Knew from tales of ages past that Harry had been with men before, had never said that he preferred not to be.

There were also the stolen glances, the sheer number of times that he caught Harry looking at him, watching him when he didn’t think Eggsy would notice.

Returning was always a rush, too many things to be reviewed and done, paperwork, reports, follow-ups. Registering all the shots fired and ammo utilized, turning in expenses, more forms than he thought possible. Harry at least had them half memorized and did his share and a few more before heading back earlier than him. He’d clapped him on the shoulder, hand resting there for a moment before he’d snatched it back, a lovely hint of pink sprinkling his cheeks.

Now it was two days later, and he hadn’t heard a single thing back from Harry. Replies to his texts with questions about this or that, but nothing really inspired. Finally he just sent off another text.

_Dinner at 7?_

It was well over an hour before his phone buzzed. _I’m at HQ. Not able to make it until 7:30. Where should I meet you?_

It was another twenty minutes of scrambling around and finally making a frantic call to Roxy to help him get reservations before he was sending another text.

_The Mandarin Oriental in Hyde Park. Dinner by Heston Blumenthal. I’ll meet you there._

\---------

When he’d first seen the text Harry had assumed Eggsy wanted to sit down and have a chat about, well, something. Probably admitting that whatever had happened was unprofessional and he hadn’t been thinking, or that he regretted it. Harry was prepared for anything. It seemed odd to meet over dinner, but perhaps Eggsy didn’t want it to seem too intimate when he let him down.

Then he’d gotten the second text, and he’d been more than slightly startled. He’d heard of the restaurant to be sure, but it wasn’t one he’d actually made it to. The reputation, the niceness of the location hinted at only one thing, and he stared at the text for several minutes, and kept glancing back at it, waiting to see if the location would change.

He couldn’t help checking the mirror in the fitting room as he emerged, wishing he’d chosen a different tie, and he fussily went out and got a new pocket square. Something new. Something special. He left a scribbled note to add it to his tab and caught a taxi, arriving a solid 15 minutes early.

Being so early might have made him feel a touch ridiculous if it wasn’t for the fact that Eggsy was already there, messing with his phone but his foot bouncing, not quite able to stay completely still.

Suddenly nervous he swapped his umbrella from one hand to the next, trying not to linger too much on the fine figure that Eggsy made and failing completely. It looked like he was out for one of his marks, and suddenly there was a plummeting feeling in his stomach.

That made sense.

More sense than Eggsy deciding that he liked him. This was probably a weird test that Eggsy had made up for himself, knowing if he could get Harry to fall for him that anyone would fall for him, not knowing that he was already under his thrall.

Then Eggsy was looking up, smiling. “Fuck, you’re early.” If anything the obscenity calmed him, made it seem less like a persona and more like the Eggsy that he so desperately wanted to believe was interested in him. “I’m going to be honest with you. I called Roxy first.”

Harry froze, things clicking into place. He’d wound up with reservations before, and of course he was the second choice. Of course.

“I know, you’re disappointed. But I ain’t got no fucking clue where to go. She suggested this place so I hope its good, but if it’s shit it’s her fault.” That wasn’t what he had thought, and he was still trying to figure out if it meant what he thought it meant when Eggsy was stepping into his space, looking up at him with confident eyes. “I’m glad you came,” then he was leaning up, barely skimming his lips across Harry’s. “I’m going to date the fuck out of you,” he promised, and then he grabbed Harry’s hand and started moving him toward the door, Harry following along helplessly and trying to keep up.

So this was definitely a date. There was no other way to look at it. He relaxed his shoulders slightly, it was good to know where he stood at least, good to know that at least Eggsy considered this a date of some form. If only he could figure out why.

\---------

He was starting to believe that Harry was being purposefully obtuse. The older man seemed to be second guessing every decision, or perhaps he was just second guessing showing up in the first place.

It was hard. He was trying to show off that he was an adult, that he could be the equal to any of the people that Harry could have his choice of, that he could choose a restaurant that served something called Meat Fruit and order it without laughing at it. Yet Harry kept looking as if he expected someone to jump out at him with a knife at any given point.

They were able to make some conversation, idly filler really, while waiting for their appetizer, but it was while they were waiting for their mains that silence threatened. “So,” Eggsy said, drawing out the sound slightly. “I heard you was free Monday?”

“So far,” Harry said, nodding in agreement. “I’d thought about doing a bit of work around the house.

“Oh.” It was silent, for another minute, but he refused to give in to that. “Well, I was thinking you should go with me somewhere. Like a museum or something.” Museums were probably safe. But it seemed flat, like it wasn’t a good enough offer by the way Harry’s eyes just drifted down to the table. “I was fucking sick the day my class went to the Mariner’s museum,” he added, desperate not to let the conversation die, because he really didn’t have that many starters left to try to engage the older man. “And I ain’t been to the British one since primary school.”

Finally, finally Harry responded, sounding almost indignant. “How have you not been since primary school? You graduated from a school in London, south London to be certain but it is not that far away. How could you have not gone to the museum in over ten years?”

“Probably closer to fifteen,” he admitted, mostly to watch the vein in Harry’s temple throb. “Some of that shit costs extra,” he said simply, leaning back in his chair, chin tilted up a bit defiantly. “Dean don’t think we ought to give extra to school. Once I got in trouble so the teacher wouldn’t take me.”

The resulting rant took them through dinner, and almost as amusing as Harry’s indignation was the looks that were sometimes cast their way, the knowledge that Harry never let himself go like this in polite company. He was truly worked up, and it was a pleasure to see.

They were waiting on their puddings by the time Harry really wound down for a close, reaching for a water glass that he’d just drained a few sentences before, and Eggsy nudged his own over, smiling as he took a deep drink of it.

“So,” he asked lightly. “The museum on Monday?”

\---------

“Pretty sure this is fucking better than having a tour guide,” Eggsy remarked, looking away from the broken horse statue to smile at Harry.

“Docent,” Harry automatically corrected. But he too was also confident that Eggsy was correct. The younger agent needed individualized attention, deserved it really. To have missed so much in life due to a ridiculous and abusive step-father was unacceptable.

There was so much to be seen, and they hadn’t really made it off the main floor. He could wax poetic about the Hellenistic age for hours, and Eggsy wasn’t pushing him out of any of the exhibits. Instead he seemed to be showing a great deal of curiosity, hanging on to each and every word out of Harry’s mouth, and he was fighting not to be self-conscious.

Today they had both come casually, Eggsy in his normal chav garb, and he had chosen to wear a cardigan rather than a full suit. He wanted to relax, to fully enjoy this, and his instincts were actually telling him that that was okay. That it was fine for him to settle down when it was Eggsy that he was with. That he could trust him.

He twitched his fingers, a blush building across the back of his neck, and he wasn’t surprised when Eggsy’s hand slipped into his. As they moved on toward the next room he let his thumb trace over the back of Eggsy’s hand. It was another couple of steps before he slowly let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, relaxing and repeating the motion.

\----------

The oddest fucking thing about all their dating was how relieved Harry seemed when Eggsy asked him out. It seemed as if he was honestly surprised, as if he thought at any moment Eggsy would turn to him and tell him he not only wanted to break up, but he was taking any chance at Harry’s future happiness with him.

He was actually worried when Harry had his next mission where he had to seduce someone, going so far as to figure out how to be in Merlin’s office when Harry was out so he could check on him. But Harry was just himself. Charming, confident, and the woman was in his car within the hour. He wanted that.

Oh, there was something to say about a Harry that seemed too embarrassed to meet his eyes, the cute blushes that Eggsy could just imagine running all over his body, disappearing into his perfectly pressed white shirts. But he wanted Harry to be himself, and that was something he was willing to fight for.

So he made a call, a quick one, in line with both of their schedule, then sent Harry a quick text. 

_I’m picking you up at 16:30 Friday. Wear something you don’t care about._

\-----------

Harry was mostly just confused as Eggsy motioned him into the taxi but he got in willingly enough, the driver setting off instantly. “Where are we headed?” He couldn’t contain the question any longer, he had to have at least some form of answer. Dinner? A museum? Trafalgar square to watch street performers? The sky was the limit with his protégé.

“I thought I’d surprise you,” was Eggsy’s answer, and at Harry's unimpressed look he finally offered a tad more information. "I thought we should do something fun, and I didn't think you'd done anything like this before.

He could tell Eggsy was playing for time, not wanting to give away the big reveal too early, but he was curious. The young agent had unfortunately be trained against interrogation, so while they were in the taxi it was impossible to get him to properly answer.

He thought about leaning in, murmuring his question in Eggsy's ear, breath puffing warmly against his skin. It was a move he'd done dozens of times, possibly hundreds, but the idea now him had him flushing.

So instead, voice quiet, he replied back with a simple "I trust you."

\----------

Well, he thought he did.

Now, staring up at the sign declaring they were at Delta Force Paintball he wasn't entirely sure.

Eggsy seemed a bit nervous but he clapped Harry on the back. "Thought we could blow off some steam, catch some fresh air." He grinned at Harry cheekily, "and utterly destroy some teenagers."

He couldn't help his lips twitching up at the idea. "So it's not every man for himself?"

"Oh, we could play it any way we like," Eggsy assured him. "We could make it a competition to see who took out the most."

Harry shook his head. "No, I rather enjoy the idea of working alongside you. Plus I can ensure you're not complete shit at this."

The look Eggsy gave him was offended and he smirked as they walked in. It was easy to step back and let Eggsy rent their gear, getting them both bright blue ammunition to go in their weapons, along with the appropriate armor.

It took a while to get sorted to a group, and looking around it was easy to see that most were in their middling teens to early twenties. He stood to the side with Eggsy, ignoring the questioning and judging glances cast his way as Eggsy started murmurings game plans to him.

"We could just run a standard procedure," he finally suggested. "You've never had an opportunity to use Delta formation with me, and it does seem oddly fitting."

Eggsy mulled it over and nodded. "We're going to fucking own them," he pointed out and Harry just smiled that carefully measured little smile of his.

\---------

Eggsy twirled, dodging a bullet and making it behind the thick column as two guys charged after him. Calling them wankers had seemed like a good idea at the time, and he heard two shots being fired he knew it had been a good decision.

He looked up in time to see Harry nod and resume his place, a relatively covered area on the roof nearby, and it was time for him to attract the last few targets.

Flattening himself against a wall of the building he passed by carefully, knowing Harry would cover him, then held up a fist. Five seconds later he pushed off from the wall, sprinting to the next bit of cover, hearing another shot being fired and an indignant hell to his left.

Four to go.

He managed to catch one completely off guard, a quick double tap getting the guy in the chest and arm, and almost too late he realized this was a pocket, not a loner.

Cursing he scrambled for cover, forced to sling his gun over his shoulder and use both arms to pull him up on top of a ramp, barely rolling onto it before paint splattered he railing and thudded into the bottom of the ramp.

He turned over, army crawling up to the next level, and that was when he saw Harry, carefully sighting down his weapon and then unleashing a stream of paintballs.

Then he held up a single finger. One to go.

Two fingers, scissoring them apart. Separate.

Making sure his coast was clear Eggsy moved into a crouch, pulling his gun back around and starting to scan the area. It was likely their last opponent had high ground, so it was just a matter of pinning him down, getting him to reveal himself. Mentally he ticked off the ground they'd recently occupied then smirked. No, this wasn't a smart fucker. This was a lazy one, or a scared one. They would just hide so they could claim they'd lasted a long time.

There was a tucked away spot that he'd passed up early on because there were too many openings to defend. That was where he went now, sneaking in from an angle and smirking when he saw the hint of a vest.

He crept closer before squeezing the trigger, satisfied with the squawk that rang out.

"Clear!"

It took a moment but Harry appeared, hair still perfectly coiffed. He couldn't help it, he bounded over to him, as excited as JB when he returned home after a mission. "Fuck yeah!" He couldn’t help it, he leaned up, pressing an enthusiastic kiss to Harry’s lips and then rolling back down to his heels, practically bouncing in excitement. “We fucking owned them,” he declared, reaching out for Harry’s hand and beaming when Harry met him halfway.

They headed in to strip off their equipment, Eggsy laughing as he acted out a few of the more colorful moves, Harry smiling at him so indulgently that he was pretty sure the older man wasn’t aware of what he was doing. They were almost to the exit when he noticed Harry glancing up and closing off slightly. Following his line of sight he a few of the guys splattered with blue paint, arms folded and trying their best to look menacingly.

It was harder to do with bright blue paint than they probably realized, and he instinctively tightened his grip on Harry’s hand. Together they were unstoppable and he tilted his head up, defiantly swaggering toward them, wishing had another hand so that he wasn’t awkwardly holding his helmet with his free arm and also wrangling the paintball gun.

“Excuse us,” Harry said, voice the carefully measured pleasant tone that he often used when on missions, not the genuine one Eggsy was becoming privy to.

“What the fuck do you shitheads think you’re doing?” The one in the middle took a step forward, obviously the leader of this little entourage.

He didn’t need to look over to know that Harry was raising his eyebrows at them. “Paintballing.” He looked down at Eggsy and Eggsy raised his gaze to meet his as Harry spoke, voice scolding. “I did tell you they didn’t seem to know what they were doing. You shouldn’t have signed us up for an amateur group.”

They’d been specifically signed up for a group that was supposed to be advanced, and he knew Harry knew that. He just turned toward the other guys and shrugged. “Ain’t our fault you was outclassed.”

One of the ones to the side was nudged in the side by one of his companions and spoke up. “It’s fucking weird that you’re here with some grandpa. Or is he your sugar daddy?”

He could feel Harry tense up, had guessed before that Harry was concerned about the age difference and now he had proof. Casually he squeezed the trigger, sweeping the gun in a slow line as they started to scramble back, swearing loudly. “Fuck, my bad,” he said, voice completely flat. Then he squeezed the trigger again, this time specifically aiming for the one who had spoken, hitting him several times where he didn’t have any sort of armor. “Shit, I guess I’m bad at this.”

He could almost feel Harry withdrawing beside him, and he tugged on his hand. “Ready to go?” Eggsy ignored the rest of the chaos, focused solely on Harry even as a worker emerged to yell at them about not using the paintball guns point blank or off the field.

\---------

“I don’t give a fuck about what they said.”

Eggsy was looking at him, he could feel his eyes on him, but Harry kept looking out the window, not ready to acknowledge what had happened. Not in the car. They hadn’t been wrong. That was what it came down to. The boys had been right. He was old, he didn’t belong, and this was a world that Eggsy belonged to. One of youth and fun. Playing. Harry couldn’t be that for him, despite the couple scant minutes they’d had, where they’d been one team and everything had been happy.

Eggsy fell silent, and Harry knew that when the younger man thought about it he’d have to see the truth for himself. He’d realize that they were right, that harry didn’t belong. That he deserved more.

The ride back to his house was long and quiet, and he was a bit surprised when Eggsy got out with him, turning to give him an odd look. He had a determined air around him, and Harry knew what this was. He had to have finally pieced it all together. He had known for a long time that this talk was coming.

So he let Eggsy follow him into his house, resisted offering him tea, wanting to keep him there as long as possible but knowing this was the inevitable. It was time to watch him stretch his wings and fly. 

“Will you fucking stop looking at me like that?”

He jerked guiltily, not entirely sure what Eggsy was talking about, and Eggsy was frowning at him, eyebrows furrowed, mouth parted open in that obscene way of his. “You look like I’m about to pull a fucking trigger.” He stepped closer, crowding into Harry’s space and tilted his head up. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course.” That was easy enough to answer, a simple truth.

“Then start acting like it you wanker. I ain’t just fucking around here Harry, you ought to trust me. Since you say you do then I just got one thing to say to you.”

Harry couldn’t look away even if he wanted to, eyes transfixed on Eggsy’s.

“I ain’t going nowhere. You’re fucking stuck with me until you tell me to get, and then I’ll only go if you mean it and you ain’t being some sacrificing prick because you think dickheads like that is right. I ain’t fucking going anywhere.”

He found himself blushing again, vermillion skin that felt overheated and sensitive as Eggsy grabbed his shirt, pulling him down until he could press their lips together, parting his lips until Harry couldn’t resist the invitation, slowly tracing his lips with his tongue, dipping in for a taste of what should have been forbidden.

It was hard to tell at what point they’d moved so that Eggsy was pressed up against the wall, but when Harry felt him starting to rub up against his leg he broke away, panting and trying to reorder his thoughts. There was something about Eggsy staring up at him that convinced him, something in the way that Eggsy drug his tongue over kiss swollen lips, the heat in his gaze almost palpable.

“I trust you,” he whispered, repeating the words from earlier, watching the way that Eggsy’s pupils seemed to swallow the rest of his eyes.

He straightened his shirt, trying to calm down. “Thank you for today, it was very pleasant.” He knew Eggsy would see it as a dismissal, and it was. Because Harry needed time to process, to get things back in order.

There was disappointment in Eggsy’s eyes, but quickly masked, and he nodded, straightening up himself. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

A touch of actual questioning was in his voice, and Harry wished he could wipe that away. “Yes,” he agreed, walking Eggsy the couple of paces to the door. “Should I call a taxi for you?”

“It’s just a couple of blocks away,” Eggsy said, a touch amused at his worrying, but it was only right that he ask. Harry nodded, opening the door, to see Eggsy out, wanting him to turn, and trying not to looking too relieved when he did. Automatically he started leaning in, giving Eggsy one last, lingering goodnight kiss before Eggsy started down the side street in front of his house, lifting his hand in a wave as he went before stuffing both hands in his pockets.

Harry didn’t go back inside until Eggsy had turned the corner.

\---------

_Are you free this evening?_

Eggsy wasn't expecting his phone to buzz, and the slight noise alerted the woman stalking him. She charged, pistols in each hand during rapidly but most of the bullets were caught by his suit. He twitched his shoulders, metal falling off to clatter on the floor, then pointed his wrist toward her and fired. The dart found its mark and within seconds she was crumpling to the ground.

He moved to stand over the body before pulling out his phone, surprised. He hadn't heard from Harry for a couple of days when they'd both been in to accept new missions, and before then they'd only been able to communicate via texts since their paintball date.

_Just wrapping up. I'll be free by 16:00._

_May I pick you up at 19:45? Formal. Late dinner._

_I'll be waiting._

He tried to contain his excitement but it was difficult. Harry was reaching it, actually asking him to something. He wasn't surprised that it was formal, but he didn't mind either. Pocketing his phone he crouched down and picked up the woman. Merlin would like this little present.

\---------

There was something to be said about walking up to the door and ringing the bell rather than texting Eggsy to come out.

He straightened his tie while he waited. The door was flung open, Eggsy half out the door before he seemed to remember Harry was there. "Good evening!"

Sinful. That was how Harry would describe him. He was wearing a new suit, one Harry hadn't seen before. Solid black but paired with gold accents. Then he caught sight of the pocket square and raised an eye, Eggsy just grinning. Without a doubt it was the same print as the coat he'd worn during training, though how he'd managed to get it on silk was something only a Kingsman could know.

"You look," he started to say handsome, but the words wouldn't be enough. Instead they stuck in his throat, and he mentally cursed. This was ridiculous. He should just be able to tell Eggsy that he looked like lust come to life, or at least nice, and instead be was on the verge of stammering, cheeks darkening the longer he stood there like an idiot.

Eggsy just gave him a soft smile. "You too. Is that a new tie?"

It was enough. Harry leaned in, letting Eggsy close the distance, and after a quick press of lips he moved to open the door for Eggsy, holding it open and then sliding in next to him, tapping to let the driver know he could drive on.

He could tell that Eggsy was curious, but he remained fairly quiet, merely lacing their fingers together in the seat between them. It was pleasant, and while the drive was over thirty minutes with traffic he found he didn't really want it to end.

They still arrived in plenty of time, Eggsy looking speculative and raising his eyebrows when he noticed they were in the West End.

He started smiling a bit more when the driver pulled up in front of the theater they were going to, the large lion head on the poster giving away which performance they were going to.

"I believe you said you enjoyed the movie as a child," Harry offered, suddenly self-conscious of his choice.

"Fuck yeah I did. I always wanted to see it live."

He was still smiling to himself, relieved, when he got out of the car, holding the door open for Eggsy and then escorting him in. This time he dared to place a hand on the small of his back, allowing a bit of his possessiveness show as they went in to find their seats, the usher showing them to their seats in the middle of the third row.

He enjoyed performances, be they musicals or plays, operas or ballets, symphonies or soloists. But tonight was different. Special. Never before had he had someone at his side that he wanted to like the performance more than he did, and he constantly found himself glancing over, trying to gauge Eggsy's reactions until the younger man reached over, placing a hand on his lower thigh and squeezing gently.

Harry tried relaxing, and during intermission Eggsy just gave him an exasperated look as he stood, stretching his back out. "Will you settle the fuck down?" he queried as Harry stood up as well, buttoning his suit back up.

"I'll try," he offered, and he did. During the second half he silently offered his hand, and when Eggsy took it he was able to look over slightly less often. 

\-----------

Dinner was a late affair, but a fairly quick one. They stopped by a local eatery that stayed open late, the type where you ordered at the counter but your food was brought to you. Still it had been a while since he'd eaten a snack, and he devoured his panini and soup before sampling Harry's salad.

There was cake for pudding, the slices ridiculous and they shared two different types, forks battling playfully for the last bite of chocolate before Harry managed to break past his defenses, spearing the bite neatly.

He laughed, willing to concede defeat but then the bite was being held out for him. His eyes darted between the morsel and Harry, could see that the older man was starting to probably regret this as he seemed to be getting embarrassed, so he leaned forward.

Deliberately he closed his eyes, opening his mouth, and after an awkward moment the heavenly dessert was caressing his tongue. He pulled it off the fork slowly, savoring it, opening his eyes to see Harry biting his bottom lip, eyes wide, and the girl behind Harry staring as well. 

He settled back in his chair and winked at Harry, using his fork to get a piece of the remaining carrot cake.

It wasn't until he was lifting it up for Harry that his face turned a nice vermillion. "I'm finished," Harry insisted, voice sounding slightly strangled. Eggsy shrugged, then worked on taking it off his fork, licking off the frosting with long, slow strokes of his tongue.

He wasn't able to finish off the entire piece before Harry was setting aside his napkin. "I think we should leave," he said, voice still tight.

They made it to the car before he shifted over, cupping Harry's face and turning his face to meet his.

Traces of chocolate and spiced cake were still prominent in Harry's mouth, and Eggsy enjoyed lingering there. Liked it even more when it was Harry's tongue delving into his own mouth, tracing over his teeth and apparently attempting to memorize the roof of his mouth.

The window was up, the driver couldn't really see or hear them. So Eggsy was willing to push things a bit farther. He reached down, cupping Harry through his trousers, squeezing gently and smirking into their kiss when Harry's hips surged out of the seat, stopped only by the seatbelt he was still wearing. 

Harry broke off their kiss but Eggsy kept his hand where it was, rocking his hands back and forth and watching Harry try to remain in control.

"Please Eggsy." Eggsy bit his lip, feeling his cock twitch in his trousers. He'd never heard Harry sound so wrecked. "Not here." 

The older man was almost pleading, and Eggsy didn't want to stop. Still he reached for the button for the window, letting it slide down a few centimeters before giving Harry's address, never taking his eyes off of Harry even as he slid the window back up and leaned in to press a kiss to Harry's neck.

The Kingsman groaned, leaning his head back and exposing more of his neck. It was too much of a temptation not to take advantage of, and Eggsy flung one leg over Harry’s, trying to get as close as possible and seriously debating just straddling him as he pressed another kiss to the bared flesh. But if they passed any officers they would surely be pulled over, and he didn’t want to delay this. Not even for a few minutes. For all he knew it would be enough to have Harry would be shirking back into his shell.

They were both more than half hard by the time they got to Harry's house, Harry fumbling for his wallet, a few strands of hair drifting into his face, and Eggsy could only watch as he shoved bills at the driver, not even counting them, and they got out of the car.

The vehicle took off as they walked up to the door, Harry getting out his keys, but before he could actually unlock the door Eggsy stopped him with a light touch to his wrist. Harry turned, eyes cautious and questioning, almost as if he still expected Eggsy to just leave him right here, and Eggsy couldn’t have that. Refused to go on like this.

“You know I love you, yeah? Like, I’m fucking in love with you.” He said the words slowly, loved watching the color flood up Harry’s neck even in the dim lighting, and then Harry was shoving the door open frantically, pulling Eggsy inside.

He’d kind of expected a different reaction, hadn’t really thought that with Harry and the way he’d been acting through their whole time dating they’d just go straight into filthy sex against the wall (not that he really minded that idea) but he was just a touch disappointed as Harry pushed him back against the door, devouring his mouth with a kiss. 

Harry pulled back panting, pupils blown. “Are you certain?” There was a raw quality to his voice, a desperation there, and Eggsy wasn’t sure how he could be so obtuse. How he could possibly think anything differently.

And because he was who he was he told him exactly that. “You out of your fucking mind? You’re trained to notice shit but ain’t been paying attention bruv. I ain’t in this for a fuck. I ain’t going home when we’re done unless you turn me out, and if you don’t I’m going to get up in the morning and make a fucking amazing breakfast.”

“I only have porridge,” Harry said weakly, and Eggsy just looked at him. Out of everything here that was what he had to say?

“Then I’m going to make the best fucking porridge you’ve ever had,” he announced, completely ignoring the fact he’d never made porridge before. 

Finally he could see it. Could see the clouded look in Harry’s eyes clearing up and hope filtering in, could see that he was finally starting to believe that this was actually real and not a hallucination. It’d taken him fucking long enough. 

“Eggsy,” he murmured, and then, oddly enough, his face went scarlet. He raised a hand covering his mouth as he spoke and not quite meeting Eggsy’s eyes. “Will you come to bed with me?” 

His eyes darted up, and Eggsy’s mouth just dropped open as he palmed himself helplessly. It was ridiculous, he knew it was ridiculous, but the fact that Harry was asking permission after all this, as politely as if he was asking to borrow a pen, almost had him cumming right there. Gaze heated he started for the stairs, loosening his tie as he went. “Since you asked so nicely,” he decided.

He could hear Harry following him up the stairs but he was practically on a mission, determined to get Harry into bed as quickly as possible. By the way that Harry almost threw his coat into a chair, risking actual wrinkles, he was pretty sure the older man felt the same way, and he couldn’t help grinning, tossing his coat on top of his. There was something different about stripping off his shoes and trousers, the two of them completely in their own worlds until he was about to start on the buttons on his shirt and Harry batted his hands away.

It was ridiculous how quickly Harry had stripped down to just his pants, his cock straining against the thin fabric and a very obvious wet spot causing Eggsy to lick his lips. The movement caught Harry’s attention and there was only one thing Eggsy could do when he was staring at his lips as hungrily as he was. “If you ask permission I’ll let you.”

The words pierced the silence and Harry startled, almost guilty, hands shakily working on another button in an almost nervous fidget. “Will you allow me to kiss you?” Harry asked, voice almost uncertain, trying to figure out if that’s what Eggsy wanted him to do.

Eggsy nodded, eyes bright and focused as Harry shuddered. He met Harry halfway obligingly, quickly turning the kiss rough and filthy, pressing up against Harry and practically writhing, moaning when his cock finally got the friction it had been so desperate for.

He tore at Harry’s buttons, managing to actually undo most of them though at least one went skittering across the floor before he was able to push the shirt down Harry’s arms before removing his own, leaving them both in their pants only, the flimsy fabric doing very little to conceal anything. He put a hand on Harry’s chest, nudging him backwards, and Harry sat down on the bed, letting Eggsy lean over him. But when Eggsy started to crawl up on the bed with him Harry broke off, eyes dark as his eyes roamed down his body.

“Would you...would you remove your pants for me?” Much quieter, so hard that Eggsy had to strain slightly to hear he added “I would like to watch.”

Eggsy felt his cock twitch again, knew that if Harry didn’t stop it with this things were going to be over before they even started. He seriously doubted either of them would last long either way. Obligingly he took a step back, hooking his thumbs in the elastic band. 

It was torturous but he drug the fabric down slowly, groaning at the feel of the fabric slipping over his prick, hips bucking lightly before his cock was finally freed, bouncing to jut up proudly. Still he pushed down the thin fabric, pushing it over his arse and finally letting the fabric fall, stepping out of it slowly but not moving closer, instead looking pointedly at Harry’s pants.

From the flushed look on Harry’s face he was a bit uncomfortable with the idea of doing it himself, and he removed the garment quickly, looking almost self-conscious, though from what Eggsy could see he had no reason to be. He was half tempted to drop to his knees, to show Harry with his mouth just how much he wanted to be here, but tonight he wanted to know what Harry wanted. What Harry would ask for.

There was a moment of silence before Harry seemed to acknowledge that Eggsy was waiting for him to make a request and he cleared his throat, licking his lips before blurting out his next request. “May I fuck you?” Rather than blushing Harry blanched white. “Shit. I meant, not now but,” he looked on the verge of rambling and Eggsy put a finger over his lips.

“Let’s talk prep first, yeah? I ain’t been fucked in a couple years.” He could see the flash of fire in Harry’s eyes, jealousy, and that was interesting. He didn’t particularly want to make Harry jealous, but he was very invested in anything that would get him the best fucking possible. “Wasn’t that good though. Bet you could make me forget all about it,” he practically purred the last few words, could see the challenge sinking in.

There was a bit more confidence when Harry spoke again, a touch of heat to his voice. “Would you be willing to open yourself up?”

It took him by surprise, but he leaned in, pecking Harry on the lips. “For you,” he whispered. “But you’ll have to get me the lube.”

While Harry got up to get it Eggsy made himself comfortable on the other end, putting a pillow under his hips and moving another to behind his back as he leaned against the headboard. By the time Harry made it back his legs were already sprawled open, a spit-slicked finger teasing his opening and it was worth it to watch Harry drop the lube, to see the curve of his arse as he had to bend to pick it up. 

“Thanks,” he murmured, taking the tube and liberally coating his fingers, giving the liquid a moment to warm up. It had been a while since he’d been fucked, that much was true, but since he’d met Harry Hart and gotten out of a shared dormitory there had been several solo adventures. Harry was transfixed on watching his hand, move past his bollocks, circling his open, and if he watched Harry while he did this he was probably going to cum all over himself. Instead he closed his eyes, letting himself focus on feel of his own fingers probing at his opening, rubbing at the ring of muscle before slipping a single finger in to the first joint, giving himself a second before shoving it all the way in.

The intrusion wasn’t unfamiliar, and just one finger didn’t really hurt at all. It was just something to adjust to, his wrist twisting as he trust in a couple of times, smearing the lube around. He pulled out to the tip before adding a second finger, breathing in sharply as he pushed them in together. One was easy, two was an actual stretch. He reminded himself to breath, trying to relax as he started to move his fingers and scissor them slightly.

There wasn’t much of a chance that he’d cum now so he let his eyes flutter open, felt his cock renew its interest as he looked at Harry. The older agent was biting his lip, watching him open himself up for him, and then he glanced up. He watched as the older man leaned over, pressed a kiss to the inside of his thigh. “I’m ready,” he murmured, knowing it would hurt when Harry pushed into him but he was done with prepping himself. He wanted to feel him in him. Now.

Harry shook his head. “You should use at least three,” he cautioned.

Eggsy huffed a sigh before a slow smirk grew on his face. “Or you could use one of yours.”

Harry’s face was still crimson as he dribbled lube on his finger, and Eggsy groaned, letting his head thud back against the bed as he felt Harry’s finger brush over his own, felt another finger nudging in under his own. It hurt, he had to admit that, he felt full and stretched, but Harry almost seemed as if he had an objective. It was made clear when he pressed against his prostate and Eggsy yelped, back straightening and a hand flying to the base of his cock so he wouldn’t cum yet.

Right. Harry had lots of experience. It was too easy to forget when he acted so shy around him, but now he was proving what Eggsy never should have forgotten. Before long he was rocking his hips, easily accepting the three fingers and trying to work them in deeper.

“Can I fuck you now?” 

Harry’s voice filtered through the haze of pleasure and he couldn’t resist smirking a bit. “I dunno, can you?”

“Brat.” He had to look up at that, Harry’s voice had been frightfully fond. 

“You need to get in me right the fuck now,” Eggsy told him seriously, slipping his fingers out and trying not to whine with how empty he felt.

At least Harry complied, quickly rolling on a condom and slicking himself up. There was a moment of shuffling, of them not being accustomed to slotting together seamlessly yet, and then Harry was kneeling between his legs, one arm braced against the headboard by his bed as he used the other to guide the head of his cock.

Eggsy had to close his eyes, focus on breathing as he pushed in, the head of Harry’s cock breaching his opening. Harry stopped, letting him adjust until he opened his eyes, their gazes locking as Harry’s hips started to move again. He didn’t stop again until he was fully in him, balls pressing against his arse, and then Harry leaned forward, kissing him sloppily. Eggsy didn’t even remember relaxing or Harry pulling back until he was pushing back in.

His hands wandered down the planes of Harry’s back, tracing the muscles there as Harry started to thrust and grind against him, finally dipping down to grab Harry’s arse. He could feel the muscle flexing under his hand, and when Harry pulled out to the tip again he squeezed, trying to pull him back in. His efforts were rewarded with a strong enough thrust that his entire body moved.

They rocked together, Harry reaching down with the hand not bracing himself against the bed to stroke Eggsy’s cock, occasionally thumbing at the head.

Then he slammed in again and Eggsy saw stars as he found his prostate again.

He wasn’t sure what he shouted but he knew his voice was hoarse. Harry adjusted his position and then repeated the motion, nailing the same spot over and over, forcing Eggsy to remember just how experienced he was as Eggsy stared at the ceiling and nothing at all, unable to focus as his eyes almost rolled back into his head.

He worked his hips frantically, trying to meet Harry’s thrusts but sometimes too eager, content to work Harry’s shaft.

“Eggsy,” Harry’s voice cut through the fog and he struggled to focus on him, giving as much attention as he could to that earnest voice. “May I cum in you?”

“Fuck!” That was what it took to make him shoot streaks of white all over Harry’s hand and his own stomach. “Do it,” he groaned, coordination lost as he tried to still work his hips. He could feel Harry tense up, heard his name moaned almost reverently as he surged into him a couple more times and then stilled, slowly pulling out and taking care of the condom.

There was only one thing to do, so Eggsy reached up, tangling the fingers of his relatively free hand in Harry’s hair and pulling him in for a kiss.

\---------

Eggsy hummed as he ladled the porridge into two bowls. The shower had served the dual purpose of being both recreational and refreshing this morning, and if he happened to be cooking in nothing but an apron there was no one around to complain.

At least, no one that would actually mind.

He could practically hear Harry rolling his eyes as he entered and walked up behind him, slipping his arms around his waist and dropping a kiss behind his ear. 

Eggsy simply turned, moving with Harry to the dining room and setting down their porridge. “Bon appétit,” he said cheerfully, watching Harry closely as they both took a bite.

After tasting it Harry nodded and set down his spoon, then reached for the sugar, absentmindedly spooning in a generous heap before wordlessly passing it over. “You would think after a year you’d have figured out how to make porridge,” he said casually and Eggsy just shrugged.

“Shut the fuck up. Porridge is always a gloopy mess. If you’d just learn to eat cold cereal I wouldn’t even bother making this shit.”

Still he couldn’t help but grin sappily over at Harry, and his fiancé couldn’t help but grin sappily back. Sickening. That’s what Roxy called them. And Merlin. And his mum. And pretty much everyone else they knew. It was worth it.


End file.
